


Only We Know

by itsmadeofgold



Category: Adam Lambert (Musician), American Idol RPF, Kris Allen (Musician)
Genre: Kradam, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-05-11
Updated: 2010-05-11
Packaged: 2017-10-15 22:54:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,853
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/165689
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/itsmadeofgold/pseuds/itsmadeofgold
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kradam have a lot to celebrate.  When Adam celebrates a little <i>too</i> much, Kris takes care of him.  Schmoop!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Only We Know

From the first time he stepped in front of the Idol judges, Kris had felt like he'd been in a constant state of discovering strength he hadn't known he had. He'd been growing, learning, finding depths to himself that he never would've imagined in his old life in Arkansas. Every performance on that big stage was an act of courage, and as he had come closer and closer to the finale he'd gradually discovered a well of confidence inside himself, personal strength, that made him stand a little straighter and really _believe_ that he was something special, that he could _be_ somebody. The feeling was shocking in its empowerment, and Kris felt like it changed everything - himself, his life, and the way he saw the world. As he found and released the light he hadn't known was in him, he'd begun to feel like anything was possible.

That led to the discovery of other hidden depths. He had thought he'd understood what love was, but he learned that it had been like he'd been splashing around in a wading pool thinking he was in the ocean, until Adam had come along and pulled him into the deep. Kris found out that he was capable of a love fiercer than he had even imagined existed, that his heart was bottomless; it must be, because every time he thought he couldn't possibly love Adam any more, Adam would do something adorable or sweet or stupid or ridiculous and there Kris would be, falling again, deeper and deeper with no bottom in sight.

Which led to the discovery of still more strength. He never could've imagined being able to tell Katy that he was leaving her, that he had fallen in love with somebody else and couldn't stay. There had been a time when the sight of Katy crying would've been enough to make him fall to his knees and promise to do whatever she needed, whatever had to be done to fix it, to make her smile. But by the time it came to saying goodbye he knew that staying would be weakness, and Adam needed him to be strong. Katy needed it, too. Just because she cried didn't mean it wasn't what had to happen; just because it was hard didn't mean it wasn't right. Kris found his resolve in the knowledge that their happiness - all three of them - depended on him not doing the easy thing, but the right thing.

And now he was finding a different kind of strength: _physical_ strength. Adam was draped over him like a blanket, one arm slung around Kris's shoulder, his head lolling and his feet shuffling. Kris was practically carrying him down the walk to their front door, not even sure how he was accomplishing it. Adam's suit was rumpled, his makeup smudged, his hair pointing in every direction, and he was murmuring endearments in Kris's ear as Kris panted under his weight, desperate just to get him to the bed and trying not to think too hard about the stairs that led there.

They'd had a good time celebrating. Maybe _too_ good a time in Adam's case; Kris had stopped drinking halfway through the evening when it had become clear that Adam was really going for it. Kris's divorce had been final for a few months and he and Adam had been secretly living together for close to a year. They were done waiting, finally free of everything that bound them and preparing for their big announcement. They'd invited all their closest friends to a private coming out party, and later in the week they'd release their statement to the public announcing that they were together and committed, putting the speculation to rest and letting the public and media respond as they would. Both of them would need all their strength for that and they knew it wasn't going to be easy, but they both agreed it would be better than hiding, and tonight they had celebrated their freedom and enjoyed the company of everybody who had always loved and supported them.

Toward the end of the evening Adam had crawled up on the bar and begun to sing, looking down at Kris earnestly as his voice soared through a sweet but desperate love song. Adam had written it while they'd been on tour together, stealing kisses in dark places whenever they could find a moment, battling their guilt and uncertainty. Nobody but Kris had ever heard it before; it gave away much too much for Adam to have been able to put it on his album, and one time after he'd sung it for Kris he'd said he didn't know if he'd ever have the nerve to sing it for a crowd. He said it made him feel naked.

So when he'd sung it then, directly to Kris with shining eyes in front of their gathered friends, it felt momentous. Kris's heart swelled with pride and hope, all colored and strengthened by the pain they'd both had to go through to get to this point. Kris knew that Adam was drunk and letting his emotions carry him away, but that didn't lessen the impact - letting emotions carry them away was pretty much the theme of their relationship anyway. Kris wasn't a crier in general, but seeing Adam get choked up as he sang had brought tears to his eyes, and when Adam's voice had begun to hitch Kris got on his knees on a barstool and reached up toward him.

"Shhhh," he'd said. "It's OK. See? We're OK now."

Adam had crouched down unsteadily and Kris had to reach out to grab his arm before he tumbled off the bar.

"Love you so much," Adam had said as he leaned forward, almost falling directly on top of Kris as he tried to kiss him. Luckily Adam's dad had been handy and reached out to help steady him before both men of the hour ended up sprawled on the floor or worse.

It wasn't long after that Kris decided it was time to get Adam home and in bed. It had taken three of them to get him into the car, and before Kris had pulled away there had been a chorus of voices asking him if he would be OK, if he needed help, if somebody should go with them. Kris had thanked them all but declined, saying he could handle his man just fine. And as much as he was huffing and straining under his burden now, he still didn't regret bringing Adam home alone; it seemed like an intimate moment, like something private. Kris also knew that when he got Adam through the door, up the stairs, out of his clothes and into bed, he would be proud, knowing he _could_ take care of him. He could be all the partner he needed.

When they reached the door, he shifted his body so that Adam was leaning against his back as Kris dug out his keys and maneuvered them into the lock. As he was flinging it open he felt Adam sliding down, sighing as he went, and Kris quickly turned to catch him under the arms, hauling him back up by sheer force of will. Adam giggled.

"You're strong," he said, resting his head on Kris's shoulder. Kris laughed once breathlessly, laying a kiss on Adam's forehead as he wrapped an arm around his back, holding him tight and slowly maneuvering him through the door. Ten heavy and unsteady steps took them to the foot of the staircase, and when Kris turned to look at Adam he saw that his eyes were closing. He shook him gently.

"Stay awake, babe," he said. "I need you to help me get you upstairs. Can you do that?"

"Mmm hmmm," Adam murmured. "I'm fine."

"Sure you are." Kris smirked, then repositioned Adam so he was leaning against him more solidly. He took a deep breath before stepping onto the first stair. "Step up," he said when Adam didn't come with him. "Come on, sweetie, just a little farther and then you can sleep." Adam nodded, then stepped onto the first stair, wobbling backward precariously. Kris clutched him tightly with one hand, the other white-knuckled on the banister. He looked up to the top landing and felt his heart fall - it looked like it was miles away. He decided focusing on one step at a time was a better plan.

He had carried Katy home drunk more than once. It never seemed like a big deal - she'd lean on him, he'd hold her steady and direct her to where she needed to go. Once he actually _had_ had to carry her, when she'd passed out completely in the car. He'd lifted her out with some effort, then carried her into the apartment like they were christening their threshold. It hadn't seemed a herculean task; just a husband caring for his wife. Just something that couples do. She'd rubbed his back when he'd gotten sick after drinking too much a few times, too, and that was just another part of the bargain of being a couple. It seemed wrong that the people you loved the most would have to be subjected to that kind of thing - surely if anybody should have to watch you puke, it should be somebody you don't care for. But then, maybe part of loving somebody was standing by them in their unsexy moments and still wanting to kiss them in the morning.

Slowly and with great effort, sweat beading on his forehead, Kris got Adam up the stairs. He had to remind Adam to keep his eyes open twice, and for one sickening moment halfway up he'd really thought they were going to fall, but he'd leaned forward, regained his balance, and in the end all but carried Adam to the top. As he pulled Adam up onto the landing, Kris let out a bewildered laugh; for all his determination, he was still surprised to find that they'd made it.

Twelve more labored - but far less precarious - steps took them to the bedroom, and it was six from the door to the bed. Kris lowered Adam to sitting quickly and with less care than he'd intended, but his arm was burning and it was the best he could do. Adam's head lolled back and then forward again as he hit the mattress and bounced; Kris put a hand on his lower back to keep him from falling over, his other hand resting on Adam's knee as he took a moment to try to catch his breath.

"You OK?" Kris said.

"Mmmm," Adam murmured. Kris smiled, tilting Adam's head up with one finger under his chin.

"You sure? Feel sick at all?"

Adam smiled, his eyes still closed. "Nope. M'good. Tired though."

"OK. Let's get you to bed, then." Kris pulled at one of Adam's jacket sleeves, and Adam lifted his arms to let him pull it off. Once the jacket was off and laid neatly over the arm of a chair, Kris moved on to Adam's cuffs, removing his amethyst cufflinks and bringing them over to his dresser and placing them back in their leather case. When he turned back around, Adam was laying on the bed, his legs still hanging off the side, bent at the knee. Kris laughed, taking off his own jacket and draping it over Adam's, then kneeled on the bed beside Adam and carefully maneuvered around him to take off his necklaces; two came over the top of his head, three had to be unclasped. Once they were off and hung on the appropriate hooks at Adam's vanity, the rings came off - all seven of them. Kris was careful not to tug too hard, knowing that Adam's hands tended to swell when he drank. Some of them didn't want to come easy, but he finally managed to get them all off and back where they went on the rack. That done, Kris came back to the bed and began undoing shirt buttons. Adam hummed and licked his lips.

"I think I'm too tired," he said, cracking one eye to look up at Kris.

Kris chuckled. "Don't worry," he said. "I'm not going to put the moves on you."

Adam frowned. "No?" The buttons open, Kris rolled Adam halfway to one side to get his arm out of one sleeve.

"No. I thought you were asleep already, actually."

"It seems like we _should_ fool around. With the occasion and all. You know." Kris rolled Adam back the other way, freeing the shirt from under him and pulling it off his other arm.

"It's OK," Kris said. "You're in no condition." He smirked.

Adam pouted. "Could if I wanted to," he said, eyes still closed. "I'm not _that_ drunk. Just tired."

Kris moved down off the bed to pull off Adam's shoes, then his socks. "So what you're saying, then," he said. "Is that you don't _want_ to have sex with me? Should I be offended?" He moved back up, undid Adam's belt and then the button on his pants. He started tugging them off, giving Adam one quick tap on the ass to indicate he could help by lifting up. He didn't move, and Kris sighed, yanking them out from under him by force.

"S'not what I meant," Adam grumbled.

"Uh huh," Kris said, smiling. "Well, I am personally hurt, just so you know. Especially now that I have to look at you all naked." He sighed dramatically.

"Sorry," Adam said. "I think maybe I _am_ too drunk."

"You weren't seriously considering it, were you?" Kris laughed. "I was just playing, you idiot. You are _obviously_ too drunk."

"Dick."

"You are."

Kris moved around to the other side of the bed and pulled the covers back, then came back to Adam and took one foot in each hand, hauling him quickly over to the side so that his full length was on the bed.

"You didn't have to do all of this," Adam said, sounding even more sleepy now. "You could've just dumped me on the couch downstairs. I'd've found my way up eventually."

"That wouldn't be very comfortable," Kris said. "Can you roll over?"

Adam did, with some effort, Kris finally giving him a nudge on one shoulder to help get him to the other side of the bed. That done, Kris came around to pull the blankets up over him, then looked down at Adam's sleepy face with satisfaction.

Then Adam's hand came up and he rubbed his eyes, gray and black makeup smudging down his face and across the back of his hand. Kris frowned. So he _wasn't_ done - he'd forgotten something. He jogged to the bathroom, where he looked carefully at all the jars on the counter before finding the one he was looking for. The cotton rounds were under the sink; he grabbed a sleeve of them and headed back into the bedroom.

Adam was breathing deeply now, a rumble beginning in his chest which Kris knew would be his drunk-snore in a few minutes. He pulled a chair up to the side of the bed and leaned forward, twisting the cap off the jar of cream in his hand then carefully dipping the edge of a cotton circle. He placed his supplies on the bedside table then gently swiped across one of Adam's eyelids; Adam jerked slightly but didn't open his eyes. When the cotton was black with makeup Kris set it aside, dipping a fresh one and starting on Adam's other eye, before repeating the process and moving on to the rest of his face. He found the familiar melon smell of the cleanser surprisingly soothing, but not as much as the reemergence of Adam's skin as the layers of foundation and color came away. Once all the makeup was gone and Adam's face was shiny with cream, Kris ran one more cotton round all over, wiping away the remnants and leaving Adam's face fresh, pink and freckled.

Kris smiled. He gathered everything up and brought it back to the bathroom, putting each item back in its place and the used cotton in the garbage can. Then he undressed quickly and headed back into the bedroom, turning lights off as he went.

He finally crawled into bed beside Adam with a deep sigh, stretching his arms and legs and arching his back, luxuriating in the feel of the bed. He rolled over and snuggled into Adam's side, laying his head on his shoulder and draping one arm over his chest. Kris's shoulders were starting to feel sore, but he would be owed a backrub tomorrow and that would make it all worth it.

As if this feeling - this warm sense of accomplishment and satisfaction - weren't enough. He snuggled in closer to Adam.

"Toner," Adam said in a thick voice, wrapping his arm around Kris's back and squeezing.

Kris chuckled into Adam's neck, then nodded, his forehead rubbing into Adam's hair. He rolled away and out of bed, smiling. If he was going to do it, he'd better do it right.


End file.
